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@angeldustspiderdemon
Hey, Toots~
What brings you here?
Listen, there's a few thing we gotta go over, alright?
This shit ain't for kids, got it? I ain't no babysitter. You gotta be 18 to interact with me.
Feel free to ask questions, I'm an open book~ For fucks sake, have you seen my movies? I don't got nothin' to hide.
See ya around, daddy!~
Mod Post
Hey everyone,
I'm going to be turning asks off indefinitely. Real life has gotten really busy for me, and it's impacting my ability to actually log in and check things and even watch the newest Helluva Boss shorts.
If life ever slows down for me, the asks will get turned back on, and I'll let you all know when that time comes.
Until then, thank you all for your patience and understanding.
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
“Well, if you don’t know, how should I? Those pint-sized contraptions aren’t exactly my thing.” Alastor shrugged.
“Hey, you asked if there was anythin’ about Vox even if it was small,” Angel said, crossing his lower set of arms while his upper set of hands were on his hips.
Alastor considered, idly examining his red claws. “That new fellow in the hotel. Baxter, was it? The one chasing after Niffty all the time. He’s technologically savvy and works for Vox, yes?”
“Uh… yeah? So what?”
“Use him to dig around in that contraption of yours and get answers.”
"Smart thinkin' there, smi- uh, Al," Angel said, trying to get into the habit of using the Radio Demon's name rather than the various nicknames he had for the overlord.
Alastor arched a brow and his head tilted slightly, catching the shift. “You almost called me ‘Smiles’, didn’t you.”
"Can ya blame me?" Angel asked. "It's hard to break habits."
“Try harder,” Alastor said, that sharp smile on full display.
Angel snorted, smirking slightly. "You got it, Al."
Alastor’s static hissed like a cat. “Don’t you have other things to be doing?”
Angel smirked flirtatiously. "You if ya'd let me."
He narrowed his eyes, smile sharp and dangerous. “Get out.”
Angel frowned slightly. "Damn, fine, jus' tryin' to have a lil' fun." He turned and walked away, his upper set of arms crossed over his chest while his lower arms were stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie.
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
“Well, if you don’t know, how should I? Those pint-sized contraptions aren’t exactly my thing.” Alastor shrugged.
“Hey, you asked if there was anythin’ about Vox even if it was small,” Angel said, crossing his lower set of arms while his upper set of hands were on his hips.
Alastor considered, idly examining his red claws. “That new fellow in the hotel. Baxter, was it? The one chasing after Niffty all the time. He’s technologically savvy and works for Vox, yes?”
“Uh… yeah? So what?”
“Use him to dig around in that contraption of yours and get answers.”
"Smart thinkin' there, smi- uh, Al," Angel said, trying to get into the habit of using the Radio Demon's name rather than the various nicknames he had for the overlord.
Alastor arched a brow and his head tilted slightly, catching the shift. “You almost called me ‘Smiles’, didn’t you.”
"Can ya blame me?" Angel asked. "It's hard to break habits."
“Try harder,” Alastor said, that sharp smile on full display.
Angel snorted, smirking slightly. "You got it, Al."
Alastor’s static hissed like a cat. “Don’t you have other things to be doing?”
Angel smirked flirtatiously. "You if ya'd let me."
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
“Well, if you don’t know, how should I? Those pint-sized contraptions aren’t exactly my thing.” Alastor shrugged.
“Hey, you asked if there was anythin’ about Vox even if it was small,” Angel said, crossing his lower set of arms while his upper set of hands were on his hips.
Alastor considered, idly examining his red claws. “That new fellow in the hotel. Baxter, was it? The one chasing after Niffty all the time. He’s technologically savvy and works for Vox, yes?”
“Uh… yeah? So what?”
“Use him to dig around in that contraption of yours and get answers.”
"Smart thinkin' there, smi- uh, Al," Angel said, trying to get into the habit of using the Radio Demon's name rather than the various nicknames he had for the overlord.
Alastor arched a brow and his head tilted slightly, catching the shift. “You almost called me ‘Smiles’, didn’t you.”
"Can ya blame me?" Angel asked. "It's hard to break habits."
“Try harder,” Alastor said, that sharp smile on full display.
Angel snorted, smirking slightly. "You got it, Al."
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
“Well, if you don’t know, how should I? Those pint-sized contraptions aren’t exactly my thing.” Alastor shrugged.
“Hey, you asked if there was anythin’ about Vox even if it was small,” Angel said, crossing his lower set of arms while his upper set of hands were on his hips.
Alastor considered, idly examining his red claws. “That new fellow in the hotel. Baxter, was it? The one chasing after Niffty all the time. He’s technologically savvy and works for Vox, yes?”
“Uh… yeah? So what?”
“Use him to dig around in that contraption of yours and get answers.”
"Smart thinkin' there, smi- uh, Al," Angel said, trying to get into the habit of using the Radio Demon's name rather than the various nicknames he had for the overlord.
Alastor arched a brow and his head tilted slightly, catching the shift. “You almost called me ‘Smiles’, didn’t you.”
"Can ya blame me?" Angel asked. "It's hard to break habits."
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
“Well, if you don’t know, how should I? Those pint-sized contraptions aren’t exactly my thing.” Alastor shrugged.
“Hey, you asked if there was anythin’ about Vox even if it was small,” Angel said, crossing his lower set of arms while his upper set of hands were on his hips.
Alastor considered, idly examining his red claws. “That new fellow in the hotel. Baxter, was it? The one chasing after Niffty all the time. He’s technologically savvy and works for Vox, yes?”
“Uh… yeah? So what?”
“Use him to dig around in that contraption of yours and get answers.”
"Smart thinkin' there, smi- uh, Al," Angel said, trying to get into the habit of using the Radio Demon's name rather than the various nicknames he had for the overlord.
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
“Well, if you don’t know, how should I? Those pint-sized contraptions aren’t exactly my thing.” Alastor shrugged.
“Hey, you asked if there was anythin’ about Vox even if it was small,” Angel said, crossing his lower set of arms while his upper set of hands were on his hips.
Alastor considered, idly examining his red claws. “That new fellow in the hotel. Baxter, was it? The one chasing after Niffty all the time. He’s technologically savvy and works for Vox, yes?”
“Uh… yeah? So what?”
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
“Well, if you don’t know, how should I? Those pint-sized contraptions aren’t exactly my thing.” Alastor shrugged.
“Hey, you asked if there was anythin’ about Vox even if it was small,” Angel said, crossing his lower set of arms while his upper set of hands were on his hips.
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
“Given his ridiculous monopoly on all things high tech, that doesn’t surprise me?”
Angel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I'm still his fuckin' mind slave, I don't know what kinda bullshit is on my phone thanks to him."
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
“…so?” Alastor didn’t understand the relevance.
"Uh... Vox makes 'em," Angel supplied.
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Alastor considered. “Anything else you think is relevant about Vox? Even if it’s small or seemingly insignificant?”
"I got a new phone," Angel shrugged.
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Long and old story.”
Angel nodded, knowing better than to pry with Alastor. "Anythin' else ya need to know?"
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
Alastor chuckled. “He’s been so focused on the hotel he’s probably having you spy on Charlie, myself and the goings-on here.”
"Yeah, why's he so obsessed wiff ya?" Angel asked. It wasn't like he was constantly thinking of Alastor.
Angel knocked on Alastor's door, ready to keep his promise to tell the Radio Demon what he knew of Valentino.
Alastor answered after a minute, his red coat gone and sleeves rolled up on his shirt. He had a glass in one hand with a lit cigarette between two fingers. He arched a brow when he saw Angel Dust there. “Hello, little spider. To what do I owe this unexpected and unrequested visit?”
Angel blinked, never having seen Alastor dressed down or with a cigarette or with a drink in his hand. It caught him off guard. “Uh… I was comin’ to tell ya about Val…”
Alastor considered for a fraction of a second before nodding and stepping aside. “Come in then. And don’t touch anything.”
Angel stepped inside Alastor’s room, immediately spying the bayou and arching a brow but opting to not comment. He didn’t know much about the Radio Demon since he was mysterious and crap, but somehow the whole room (bayou included) seemed very much like Alastor.
Alastor took a seat in a wingback chair by the fireplace where eerie green flames danced in the grate. He sipped his drink. “I’m listening.”
"Right," Angel shook his head, his lower set of hands fiddling with each other, while one of his upper hands pulled nervously on the collar of his shirt. "Val's been in a mood since Vox's whole 'I'm a God King of Hell' bullshit. He's been spendin' more time in the studio, more demandin'... 'specially with me." He looked around nervously. "He's been more short-tempered... pullin' out his guns more. Stockin' 'em with angelic bullets more consistently."
“So Valentino’s not as on board with Vox’s plans as they make it seem…” Alastor said, legs crossed, a smirk forming on his lips. He brought his cigarette to his mouth for a drag, exhaling the smoke from his nose. “Trouble in paradise…”
“Yeah…” Angel confirmed. “Val and Vel are both pissed at Vox.”
“Excellent.” Alastor chuckled wickedly. “What else can you tell me?”
“Uh, the code to his penthouse is ‘6969’,” Angel added. “And I think Vox is still managin’ to use the hypnosis shit on me. Val doesn’t like him doin’ it…”
Alastor rolled his eyes at the code. “Of course it is. I don’t need a code to get to him if I truly want to though. What makes you think Vox is still hypnotizing you though?”
“Val’s been extra possessive with me,” Angel explains. “And I’m wakin’ up in places I don’t remember…”
“Do you remember any of Vox’s recent instructions?”
"Takin' pictures an' videos," Angel replied. "I can't remember of what."
(Did you draw this? If so, nicely done!)
Mod Post
Hey everyone!
I'm still here and all, just returned to work after being off for 3 months. My life turned upside down in November, and I've had to make a lot of adjustments in a short amount of time.
I'm still open for interactions, but I just ask that you be patient with me.
Thank you
